Bella Swan's Guide to the Cullen Boys
by gangstapenguinduck lover
Summary: Bella Swan is sent to live with the Cullens and their five boys while her mother is abroad. She creates a Guide on how to handle them. On hiatus--reworking. AU-H.
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: S. Myer and K. Brian have published works...I just have fun with their ideas. (:_

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**Prologue**

"Bella, can we talk to you for a sec, hon?"

I froze, snapping my book shut and thrusting it halfway across the room. With one sheepish look over my shoulder, I knew I'd been caught. Better not try and deny it now.

"It was, um, for English. Yeah! I swear, mom, the teacher is totally—"

Renee just rolled her eyes at me, cocking her hip in the way that mothers do when they know you're lying to them, albeit badly. Her hair had a reddish tint to it after a trip to the salon and her eyes crinkled in amusement and excitement. She knew my weakness for books and had started a book-allowance: I was only allowed to stay inside reading for thirty minutes every day. What a scam.

"Don't lie to me. Anyway, that wasn't what we wanted to talk to you about."

I caught the plural this time, surprise coloring my tone. "We?"

"Phil and I, sweetheart."

"Oh."

Phil was a minor league baseball player. Renee had married him almost four months ago and he'd been living with us ever since. He wasn't all that bad, and if it weren't for Charlie I would have accepted him as a father almost instantly. But the guilt that I was sort of cheating the man who gave me life out of having a daughter always nagged at the back of my mind.

Renee turned to leave the room, her frosty clothing following along with her. My mother never had much taste in fashion, but I was beginning to wonder if she really needed me to go shopping for her now, too.

When I walked downstairs, Phil was sitting on the loveseat, my mother perched on the arms. He looked comfortable there, and I couldn't deny that he'd made my mom extremely happy. I just didn't get the whole, "step-father bonding" thing that everyone saw in the movies type of vibe from him.

"Hey, Bella," he greeted me, smiling awkwardly. We still weren't much past stage one: meet the daughter.

"Hey, Phil."

"So," Renee cut in quickly, sensing the escalating silence, "we're moving."

Shock pressed into my stomach and I was sure it showed on my face. Not that I had a lot of friends here, but I had definitely put down a few roots. It was my Junior year and I didn't feel like having to move when college was so close on the horizon. I knew everything here; it was familiar; I didn't want to be the new girl.

"What?" I choked out past a block of ice in my throat.

"Yes!" she exclaimed with glee, clapping her hands in delight, "Phil is getting drafted for the professionals. Of course, it's just tryouts, but still!" I could tell this meant a lot to both of them. But at that moment, I really couldn't care less.

"Where?"

"Near Tokyo," Phil coughed out, trying to hide his smile, "It will probably be for a few years, but then you can go back to the states and start college. I heard they have an amazing writer's program there."

There were baiting me with promises of writer's programs? Now that was just unfair. Frowning, I stood up and started pacing, biting on my lip the way that I do when I'm frustrated at something.

Renee obviously noticed that I was less than happy.

"Don't you think it will be fun, Bella? We've never been out of America before," she said wistfully, "and I know that you've been looking for a change of scenery."

I had. But not for two whole years! This was beyond "a change of scenery." This went to the very last straw of my patience with my mother; it would not have been the first time that I felt like the adult and she the child. I loved my mom, no doubt about it; but when it came to making rash decisions that included my future, I had to put a stop on her whims.

"No, I don't think it will be fun," I said finally.

Renee looked at Phil nervously. Phil avoided any eye contact with me.

"I want to stay here, mom. I only have two years and then I'm gone for college. Living in Japan so close to that time isn't going to help me do what I need to."

When mom's eyes started tearing up, I knew I'd hit a nerve. She'd given up most of her dreams when she'd had me, marrying Charlie, my dad, without a second thought. Then, when they did pop up (the second thoughts, I mean), she dashed away with me into the desert, sending me on to my father during the summers that I would later recall as torture. But this was _my _future at stake, here. Risking that because Renee wanted to be with Phil wasn't on my To Do List.

"Why can't I stay with Charlie?" The words came out of my mouth before I had the chance to stop them. Living with my dad in the most dull and depressing place on earth wasn't exactly my idea of fun.

Mom hesitated and Phil slapped one hand to her knee to take over for her. "Your father expressed a desire to have you come stay with him…it's just that, well, he's not really able to put you up through the rest of your two years in high school." He looked up at my mom. Renee sniffed daintily at him, as though this upset her greatly. "However, we did get in touch with one of his old colleagues—in case you did want to stay behind, after all."

I sighed; they weren't making my decision any easier with the guilt trip they were laying on me. They loved me, I knew that; but I also knew that Renee hadn't had much time with her new husband that much and I was just holding her back. Living in a foreign country with her hubby would be good for her. I hope.

"They'd be glad to take you in. In fact, Ms. Cullen seems delighted to have another girl in the house."

"Wait—did you just say Cullen?"

Flashes of little boys, muddy and snot-ridden flew through my brain. Years of torture by the same little brats flitted through my mind, one scene after another. They had to be the most annoying little kids in the world, always moving and never listening to orders from parents…

"Yes. I believe Renee was friends with Esme. Is that right?" He looked to her for confirmation.

She nodded happily now. "Oh, yes, Esme was wonderful. Her little boys were always rugrats, though," she chuckled, "But I suppose they're all grown up now, Bella. Possibly your age."

That's right; I'd been their age when most of those visits had happened. If I were to go live with them, I'd be spending the remainder of my high school life in a house of teenage boys…men, really. Gulp.

"How many were there, again?"

"I think five was the last count, I think," Renee said, her eyes taking on that distant look when she was remembering something. "Esme did love being pregnant. Of course, I wouldn't mind either if I was mar—" Cutting herself off, she flushed down at her husband, who sat there unawares that my mom had a crush on Dr. Cullen.

I vaguely remembered him: tall and blonde, almost smiling. That was about it, though.

Sighing, I scratched my head, stopping my insistent pacing. One look and my mom knew.

The tears started up again.

"You'll call or e-mail every day, right?"

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes at Renee's antics, but being slightly touched by them, I smiled slightly. "Of course. And you'll tell me all about what it's like to live in a country that speaks a different language."

--

My laptop blinked at me, registering that Alice was messaging through the network she'd set up in the house. Never doubt Alice could do anything, even if it didn't require the use of nail polish.

_shopferl1fe: u'll write me evry day rt?_

Smiling sadly at the idea of leaving my best friend, I type back, annoyed at the chatspeak that everyone seemed to use on the internet.

_bookgrl17: Of course. And you'll call me, right?_

The response was almost instant.

_shopferl1fe_: _so how many boyz will b there? (:_

_bookgrl17_: _Five. And they'll probably be all out to kill me for invading their manly territory._

_shopferl1fe_: _no way. do u understand what haz just been givn 2 u?_

_bookgrl17_:_ No, not really. Please, enlighten me, oh wise one._

_shopferl1fe_: _n ahmazin thing. ur gonna b in a house of boyz!_

_bookgrl17_: _And that's relevant because…?_

_shopferl1fe_: _B…_

I could almost hear her eyes rolling as her fingers typed furiously across her keyboard, ready to explain what I was most obviously not seeing.

_shopferl1fe_: _u r goin to b w/ boyz. they will act like boyz. men! ur gonna b in the middle of grounds no grl haz gone b4. n they're not. Related. 2. u._

Alice must have lost her mind. She thought that because I was going to be living with these boys that I'd met when we were in diapers that I'd just magically find them into me. As if. The only thing I could see them being remotely interested in was the fact that I was a girl, and the only other female presence at the house was Esme, the mother. No doubt she had gone crazy from all the testosterone a long time ago.

_bookgrl17_: _I'll keep you updated_.

_shopferl1fe_: _u bttr. ooooooh! this is wayyyyy xiting. ((((:_

_bookgrl17_: _Don't hold your breath. I have to survive first._

Fact #1: Thus began the longest two years that I have ever lived.


	2. Home

_Disclaimer: S. Myer and K. Brian are amazingly talented. I try, with their ideas._

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**Chapter one: Home**

Esme comes to pick me up at the airport in Chicago. The first thing she does when she sees me is give me a bone-crushing hug and smile so big that it looked like it hurt. She looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties with caramel colored hair and soft features. Her voice was soothing, like my mom's when she tried to calm me down when I was little.

"Bella, it's so good to see you again. You've grown so much!" she gushed, holding me at arms length and then reaching for one of my bags.

I smiled in thanks, though I was more than a little nervous. "You look good too, Ms. Cullen."

"Just call me Esme, dear. Everyone else does."

Nodding, we trudged out of the terminal and straight for her car, a lush looking thing that I couldn't even begin to understand how much it must have cost. Noticing me eyeing her vehicle, Esme laughed, patting the trunk.

"Carlisle bought it for me a couple years back. It's a sweet ride."

"What is it?" I only asked more out of politeness than curiosity.

"Oh, it's a Lexus. 2007, maybe?" Brow furrowing, she lowered herself into the driver's seat and I hurried in after her, buckling my belt. She pulled away from the curb, making small talk the entire ride there.

She was nice enough, I guessed, but it still felt stiff and awkward to me. I knew from Renee that she had thrown herself into redoing one of the many bedrooms in their house especially for me so that I'd feel welcome there. Apparently, Esme was just so excited at the prospect of having another girl in the house that she could hardly contain it.

When we turned into a fancy neighborhood, I knew we were almost there. Tall pines stood proudly on every side of the drives, older couples strolling on the sidewalks and younger kids loitering on corners or on bikes. It was so lively, different from my boring little cul-de-sac back in Arizona.

Esme turned the wheel and suddenly I was staring the house straight in the face. The first thing I noticed was that it seemed the entire occupants of said house seemed to be outside. Esme looked at me with a smug smile, opening her door and saying quietly, "I've told them not to be a bother. Most of them are on their best behavior…"

I nodded as I blushed, having gotten caught ogling at her sons. Easily, I could spot the older ones, the ones that I knew from when I was little. Stretching the limits of my mind, I tried to remember their names and came up blank.

Dr. Cullen stood out among the guys, his bright blond hair shining in the afternoon sun. He and two of his sons, one large and broad-shouldered, the other tall, but slender, were playing some sort of rugby game. The big guy tackled Carlisle, smacking him to the ground.

Off to the side, another two of the five were playing what looked like an intense game of chess. What caught my interest was the odd color of the lanky one's hair: bronze, copper maybe. The sort of hair color you get when you mixed caramel-brunette and dirty blond.

Finally, a little rugrat. He ran around Carlisle, trying to get in on the game. When that was a failed attempt, he ran toward the two playing chess and sat down, mocking them and their stern gazes at the board. Obviously that was too boring for him, but soon enough, he spotted Esme and I, and hollered out, "They're here!"

Rounding the car, I helped Esme get my things out of the trunk as everyone looked over to us and then broke out in friendly grins. Being a mother, Esme simply laughed and yelled at the boy, "Hush, James. There's no need to shout, they can see perfectly fine."

All too soon, Dr. Cullen was rounding the guys up, straightening shirts and wiping dirt off of some faces. If I didn't know any better, I would have assumed that he was in the military, not the medical business.

"Bella," he greeted, strolling over and embracing me in a hug that I was _not _expecting. The big one laughed at my shocked face.

"Um, hi, Dr. Cullen," I mumbled, my face already aflame again.

"Please, call me Carlisle."

Sheesh, what was with everyone and a first-name basis around here? Not that I minded…a lot.

Before I knew it, Carlisle was introducing the boys by age and size, it seemed like, and it started with the little rugrat, James. He certainly didn't look seven, but then again, all of their children looked about ten years older than they probably were. With a little tuft of hair sticking up in the back, and an evil eye that scared even _me_, I realized James wasn't someone I wanted to mess with.

"And this is Jacob."

Jacob was the adopted one of the family. Later on I'd learn how his father, someone named Billy who lived close to my dad, started having kidney problems, and once they put him on life-support, Jacob had no where to go. Esme took him in when he was ten, and he'd been living with them for the past five years. Definitely part of the family, no doubt about it.

Jacob gave me a rueful grin, shrugging under the massive bulk he packed underneath his fifteen-year old body. I smiled tentatively back at him.

"Jasper, of course."

This was one of the ones playing chess. Lanky blond hair, stunning blue eyes with a five o'clock shadow, I could easily tell where he got his looks from. Jasper watched me carefully, sizing me up, I guessed. The left corner of his mouth pulled up and I assumed that was his greeting.

"Emmett," Esme's voice rushed over Carlisle's whispering, "he's trying to be a body builder; we all know why, though."

I wasn't about to ask why that was exactly, but Emmett was the most exuberant of the group. Like his dad, he didn't give any warning before approaching me and lifting me into a bear hug, squeezing the death out of my lungs with just his biceps.

"Hey, Bella. I just know we're going to get along great," he laughed, setting me down and stepping back into line.

Shakily, I responded, "Yeah, same here, Emmett."

"This is Edward," Carlisle finally said, getting to the end with an almost proud note present in the golden hues of his voice.

Edward intrigued me the most, and not because I found him the undeniably handsome. Besides James, he was the only one who didn't look happy or curious to see me here. He stared at me, eyes the color of the deep green sea, almost challenging. Being much smaller than Emmett, I didn't understand how he could be the oldest, but I guess you can't judge a book by its cover. Edward was eighteen, turning nineteen in December.

"Hello," I said, albeit timidly. A curt nod was the only response I would get.

Everyone noticed the awkward tension that had floated into the atmosphere unannounced, and suddenly they were everywhere, doing anything but being near me. Esme directed me and Emmett (who helped with my bags) towards the stairs and into a room that could only be described in two words: mother overload.

She had painted everything a purple-ish pink. Nothing that represented the testosterone fueled boys in the house was left anywhere in the room, the walls with decorative flowers posted there. The dresser had tendrils of pink vines. The bedspread was a maroon, matching the overhead lanterns which were, of course, purple and pink.

I'm sure my mouth hung open in happy astonishment, but inside, I was screaming.

"Well, I'll let you unpack," Esme was saying, closing the door behind her. "Just let me know if you need anything. Dinner won't be for another couple hours."

Nodding though she couldn't see me, I slouched on the bed, putting my head in my hands.

What had I gotten myself into?

--

After dinner, Emmett had shown me the small little gym they had located to the side of the house. I expected a swimming pool, but since, apparently, no one swam competitively, there was no need for one.

The gym was polished and well-kept, basketballs and weights lining the walls. Emmett demonstrated a dunk for me and then left me to explore. It wasn't huge, but it made due for the boys, I supposed. What I was really thinking was how it would be great to practice in.

My mother passed a gene that had skipped her generation onto me: it's called clumsiness. No matter what I do, I can't avoid it. It's like a plague that just keeps coming back, unwanted and definitely annoying.

However, when Renee signed me up for ballet when I was five, I found that the shoes had an odd sense of power over that curse; my feet could move over the floors with ease, gravity the only thing that held me to the ground.

At first, I hated it. The blisters and sore feet were always a pain, and I annoyed my mom so much about quitting that I almost did. But then the instructor told me that I had a talent for dance, if I wanted to pursue it. She's seen me on my 'normal' feet, but that didn't deter her from recommending me to one of the better classes in the area.

Ballet was sort of claustrophobic for me, though. Every time an instructor would critique my form, or I'd watch the same dances over and over, trying to figure out how they did it, this small part of me felt crushed, like I wasn't doing what I really wanted.

Eventually Renee pulled me out of classes a year ago. Never stopping, though she didn't know about it, I kept practicing, any form I wanted.

Phil found out; it was the one secret that kept us as close as a step-father and step-daughter can be when he wasn't around often.

Alice took me to clubs, and from there, I learned all forms of dancing. At night, I felt…dare I say it, free. Cliché as it may be, it was true enough, to me anyway. I loved the feel of letting my body be pulled and snapped in every direction, creating art out of…myself.

Shaking my head of the past, I jogged up to my room and grabbed my dance slippers; different from ballet slippers, but having the same purpose. Spotting Emmett in the living room with James and Jasper, I stopped for a second.

"What're you guys doing?" I asked, wondering if I was allowed to.

James, of course, just sneered, "None of your beeswax."

Jasper shook his head at his brother, but murmured, "Emmett's getting his ass kicked by a seven year old at video-games."

"I am not!" Emmett protested, lifting his controller as if that would help him win.

With a small smile at their brotherly antics, I tried to say casually, "I think I'm going to hang out in the gym for a bit…see if I can magically learn basketball while I'm there."

If they knew me, they'd now that sports was _not_ my forte. But they didn't, so I could get away with this, just this once. Until they did find out, I could practice and do whatever I wanted, pushing my body as hard as I wanted.

Jasper studied me briefly before shrugging and turning his eyes back to the screen. James had another sarcastic comment that I didn't hear because Emmett quickly shut him up with a massive elbow. "Have fun," he called cheerfully.

Turning on the lights, I sat in the middle of the floor, stretching muscles that hadn't been used in a while. Alice had taken on dancing when she was three and I fully expected her to get into ABA when we sent out college Apps. ABA: American Ballet Academy. One of the best schools in the nation for dance.

When I was six that was my dream.

Now, as I flung myself across the polished wood floors, I knew that somewhere, deep inside, it still was. But reality's a bitch, and her sister Greed wasn't too great, either.

I pulled my leg back, standing up on my toes and then lashing out at the air, feeling destructive. The sweat was already beginning to form on my face, dripping down my neck. The only sounds in the otherwise quiet room were my harsh breathing and the thuds of my feet hitting the ground, my body breaking barriers.

Finally, too exhausted to continue, I let myself fall and rested on my back, staring up at the ceiling. As my breathing went back to normal and my chest stopped heaving, I heard…clapping? Oh, God no. Please, I thought, wishing that it was just in my imagination.

But it wasn't, and as soon as I lifted my head, Edward was there, strolling casually into the room was a pen twirling between his fingers. His dark, brooding expression was still present, but he looked…extremely fascinated. And curious. And frustrated. Too many things.

Blushing and then stumbling over my feet to get to my bag, I yanked my shoes off, trying to side step him toward the door.

He called out after me, his voice loud and sure. "They teach you that in Arizona?"

"No. Yes. I mean, I kind of taught myself." Stuttering, unfortunately, gave me away when I was nervous.

If I wasn't sweating and had just had a pretty hard work out, he would have noticed how my skin flushed dark with embarrassment. Those dark eyes were riveted on me. I couldn't look away.

"For such a shy girl, you're pretty loud, Isabella."

I sucked in a breath, looking away from him as the blood started pounding in my ears. "Yeah, well…" Leaving it at that, I hoped he wouldn't ask for an explanation. Or for more demonstrations. I turned to leave again.

"Will you dance here?"

I hadn't even heard him cross the floor, but suddenly he was there, in front of me, looking entirely too wise to be eighteen years old. Intense would be the only word to describe Edward Cullen at that point in time. It was like he could see into my soul—and I didn't like it.

Brushing my bangs away from my sweaty forehead, I blew out a breath. "No, I don't dance. It was a hobby—a long time ago," I said slowly, "so forget about it."

My heart was thumping a thousand miles an hour when I finally made it up to my room and into the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

Would he tell someone?

Would he joke about me, clumsy Bella who could barely dance?

Would he keep it a secret…between us?

The hot water did nothing to calm my nerves. My muscles relaxed, though, and eventually I emerged, pulling a ratty pair of pajama pants and a worn t-shirt out of my bag. Brushing my teeth, I unlocked the door and opened it to let some hot air out, only to be face to face with a white-clad chest.

"Woah—sorry, Bella." Jacob stepped back and retreated to his room.

I sighed; it was bad enough that I had taken over one of their rooms and invaded their lives, and now I was messing up their bathroom schedule. Great.

Sleep didn't come easy that night, and the thunderstorm that thundered through the area was nothing short of coincidental.

--

**Bella Swan's Guide to the Cullen Boys**

**Entry #1**

—They're all magnificently gorgeous. Avert eyes to prevent staring.

—Don't cap the toothpaste: it will only anger the masses and make more of a mess than before.

—Get a lock for the door before James steals another one of my bras; ASAP.

—Do not, under any circumstances, go into the cupboard in the basement; Emmett stocks his 'protection' there.

—Hide all journals and books; Jasper has a brown-noser streak in him.


	3. Close Calls

_Disclaimer: S. Myer and K. Brian are geniuses. I make do with their ideas._

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**Chapter Two: Close Calls**

I was up before the rest of them. Esme informed me that the weekend was the last before school started on Tuesday, meaning I had some shopping to do. James was scheduled to go to daycare, Esme had a catering commitment and Carlisle was on duty at the hospital. This left me with four very grown, very testosterone-fueled, boys. Alone. Dear God, help me.

The blinking numbers on my alarm told me that it was 8:23, time to be up. Shrugging into the bathroom, I piled my messy hair on top of my head into a bun, brushed my teeth, and parted downstairs, tip toeing past every door.

The coffee maker was scary. I had to try three times before I finally got the water into the right place and then took fifteen minutes figuring the different buttons out. By the time I had a decent cup full, it was 8:49 and I could hear James bouncing around in his room. Jacob was grumbling something and then I heard doors slamming.

"Emmett!" James screeched, a door banging open. "Mom said you had to take me to MinnyMouse today!" He meant Minnieland, I thought, the little kids daycare right down the road. Emmett shouted what sounded like obscenities, and then Esme was right there scolding him.

"Ma, I'm fucking tired, make him go away."

"Emmett Cullen! Watch your language! Your brother needs to be picked up at four today, so be there."

Another door slammed. Suddenly, the entire house seemed to wake up, living and breathing. Shuffling and scuffs on the floor, noise so loud it was a wonder that more people didn't live here. I leaned back against the counter, taking a sip of my coffee again as I watched bodies pour into the rooms around me.

First was Jasper, bed head and sleep-eyes still present. He didn't even notice me, walking straight to the coffee pot, pouring himself a mug and stalking back into the living room where he deposited himself on the couch, looking close to dead.

Next was Jacob, bare-chested and loud. Stomping through the dining room, he picked up a shirt, sniffed it, and then pulled it over his head. Making a face, I watched as he pulled the refrigerator door open, grabbed the milk carton and took a long swig straight up. Gross.

Wiping his mouth on his arm, he turned just in time to get wacked in the shins by James who was sporting a pool noodle. You know: the ones that you see kids with, long and various colors that should be illegal in the U.S.?

"Die, martian, die!" he screamed, using every ounce of seven year old strength that he possessed.

Hardly fazed, Jake picked him up, threw him over his shoulder—still being wacked with the noodle—and walked back upstairs, leaving me staring after them.

A loud thump from right above my head and then a tussle. Emmett and Jacob's grunts filled the air and suddenly Carlisle was beside me, a travel mug in his hand.

"Thanks for making coffee, Bella."

"You're welcome," I stammered, looking at the ceiling.

Carlisle sighed and shrugged. "Boys will be boys. Just know: if you get into a fight with them, they won't take it easy on you because you're a girl."

"Good to hear," I muttered lowly.

With that, he left, briefcase in hand as Esme came down looking polished and ladylike. I felt I should be cooking cookies and cleaning the kitchen with an apron on.

"Good morning, dear," she greeted, wrapping a hand around a beige bag and propping a pen behind her ear.

"'Morning."

"Well, I know you need to get a few things for school, so we'll go tomorrow. Does that sound alright with you?"

I nodded, washing my mug out and placing it in the dishwasher which looked like it needed to be run.

"Good. Have fun with the boys, and if they give you any trouble," she warned, backing out of the doorway, "you just give me a call. Or have Emmett deal with them." Esme obviously presumed that Emmett wasn't going to be the one to give me any trouble. Somehow, I found that slightly frightening.

As I was shuffling out of the kitchen, a door along the hallway opened up, almost hitting me smack in the face. Stumbling backwards, I watched as Edward emerged, clad on in boxers and very obviously bleary-eyed and annoyed. He must have sensed me staring because he turned his head to look at me, apprehension written clearly on his face.

"What the hell is everyone doing up so early?" he muttered, shrugging past me, his bare arm brushing against mine. Shivering and trying to avert my eyes from his toned body, I trudged up the stairs quickly, shutting the door behind me.

From in my room, I could hear everything in the house. Emmett was trying to get James into clothes suitable to go out, complaining that they were going to be late. Jasper snored loudly from the den. Jacob was muttering to himself about little brothers and women in the next room, sounding like he was getting dressed. Edward…I didn't know what Edward was doing.

At the sound of his name in my mind, my heart sort of stuttered and my feet tingled. Sure, he was gorgeous, but it wasn't as if he exactly liked me.

Pulling my t-shirt over my head and off, I glanced down at my body, wrinkling my nose. My feet were swollen and blistered again, making me tread lightly on anything that wasn't carpet. Thinking ahead, I figured I'd wear converse or something comfortable today and keep activities on my feet to a minimum.

The computer that Esme and Carlisle had installed in my room in the far corner blinked to life as I checked my e-mail. Alice had written me back that Mike Newton, a boy who had been interested in me for quite a while, seemed very put out when she saw him at the basketball courts the other day.

_You have to tell me more about the boys! That little Guide thing isn't enough, though; if I come visit you I'll keep it in mind. (: School doesn't start for another week here, but I know you will. Tell me all about it! I heard from Carmen that it's some fancy boarding school, only without having to actually live there…something like that._

_Love you and miss you every day,_

_Alice AKA the only woman in your life._

Laughing a little at her joke, I wrote her back immediately, thinking over what my first night had been like and mentioning that Edward had caught me dancing. She'd be IMing me later about it, no doubt.

_I think you'd like Jasper. He's quiet and seems really moody; you'd be the perfect antidote. Emmett's a big cuddly bear even though he looks like he could crush my skull with his pinky… James is a brat, though everyone seems to adore him at times. Jacob's really nice, if a little too quiet. I think he's just trying to get to know me and get around the fact that a girl's living in his house now. Edward—well, he's different. Don't know what to make of him yet, but I have a feeling he doesn't like me very much. _

_Anyway, tell me all about the drama there. Did Carmen ask E out yet?_

_Love you,_

_Bella._

Clicking send, I moved to grab my bag of toiletries and put on an actual bra (I'd taken to sleeping with a jog bra on ever since James had invaded my bags) when suddenly my door banged open and—speak of the devil and he shall appear—James busted into my room, grinning evilly as he held my tampons in one hand and a pad in the other.

He must have seen how horror struck I was, because he turned and ran out of the room, singing, "I've got your pad, I've got your paaaaaad!"

"James!" I shouted, running out after him. My socks slipped on the hardwood floor and I tripped down the stairs, catching his body move around the corner into the living room. Without a thought, I stumbled in after him, tackling him to the floor and ripping my stuff away from him. He giggled and scrambled away from me.

"Um…"

Oh, my God.

My eyes caught sight of the rest of the guys in various states of activity, all frozen in mid action. The burning in my face could only mean one thing as Jasper swallowed and looked at the ceiling, coughing conspicuously. Emmett muttered something that sounded like, "Jesus, now we have half-naked women running around," and Jacob quickly dashed out of the room.

A streak of reddish brown hair caught in my peripheral vision and I saw Edward suck in a breath, cross his arms and lean against the wall, watching me with hell burning in his eyes.

"Uh, sorry," I murmured lamely, running out of the room at a pace so fast the track coach at my old school would have been proud.

My ears burned in humiliation and by the time I had locked myself in the bathroom again, everyone was moving again and talking about what had just happened. Boys gossip, just like girls do, which I found surprising but not all that great.

Emmett was the first to comment.

"Damn. We should hire James to get half-naked chicks in here more often!" He whooped.

"Shut the hell up you pea-brained nitwit," Jasper quipped.

Edward sighed dramatically as I flopped onto my bed, wishing that it would just up and swallow me whole and rid me of this whole thing. "You're both being immature. She wasn't anywhere near naked. God, the cheerleaders practice in less than that."

"True, brother, true," Emmett conceded.

It was nice that Edward had stuck up for me, but I still couldn't help feeling mortified. Even if I was only wearing a jog bra and ratty sweatpants, I didn't need them to see me like that, especially on my second day in the house. James would die, I promised myself. A slow and painful death.

While I thought over my new plan to kill the rugrat that was now at daycare, I grabbed my gym bag and pushed my dance slippers deep into the side, swinging it over my shoulder. Grabbing another shirt and pulling it quickly over my head, I jogged down the stairs, slipped my shoes on and sheepishly poked my head through the door again.

Jasper looked up. "Oh, um, hey."

"Just wanted to let you know that I was going to go check the town out. That okay?" I asked, knowing they wouldn't have a problem with it.

"Whatever," Edward and Jasper said simultaneously. Blond picked up the remote, bronze grabbed a book from the shelf.

Rolling my eyes I turned to go. Emmett was right there with me. "Whoa—you scared me," I said, opening the door and going out. When he followed, I turned on him.

"Um, was there something you wanted?"

He shrugged, a cool smile on his face. "Can I come with you? There's a nice gym down the street where some girls go to dance and practice for spor—"

"What?" I snapped, rounding on him.

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "I'm just saying, you have a gym bag, so…"

I glanced down at said bag. "Oh. Um, I don't dance, I'm really uncoordin—"

"Bella," Emmett chided, giving me the look that said, 'you're-not-fooling-me'. "It's okay. I'm not going to tell anyone, if that's what you're thinking."

"How did you find out in the first place." Edward. His stinking, no-good, dirty, rotten, cocky, arrogant, intense, stupid—

"I came in a little after you started and then left because I figured you wanted to be alone." He shrugged.

"Oh."

"So, you want to check it out?"

"No."

"But, you—"

"Emmett, I don't dance anymore. It's just something I do when I'm stressed." I really hoped that he wouldn't pry. Emmett didn't need to know anymore than what I'd already told him. Dancing was a sticky subject for me, especially since it brought back some pretty painful memories.

"Fine, fine. It's just—" he cut himself off, sighing wistfully. We were walking into town now, hardly anyone out except for the occasional morning people and office workers.

He was baiting me. With one look at his puppy-dog eyes, I bit. "What do you want?"

"There's this girl," he started, eyes glazing over, "and she dances, too. I just thought that if you guys became friends…you know…" The boy batted his lashes sheepishly at me.

With a roll of my eyes, I gestured with my hand that he should lead the way. One giant bear-hug and a few blocks later, he was telling me, "Bella, I owe you big time. I knew we were going to be great friends!"

Yeah. Just great.

But I couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up and the smile that broke out on my face as I stepped into the dance studio, the smell of wax and well-worn shoes pungent in the air.

--

**Bella Swan's Guide to the Cullen Boys**

**Entry #2**

—They like skin. Girl skin, specifically. Never walk into a room with less than a sweatshirt and long pants on, ever.

—They are persuasive. Do not give in, even if they pull the puppy-dog eyes on you.

—Don't get up before nine AM. Most likely all of them will be shirtless and looking adorable. Best not to put the temptation in front of you.

—Find different places to dance. If you don't, they'll catch you, and then never let you live down the fact that they know. Period.

—Go shopping, daily. For food, that is. With five boys in the house, food is always gone within two hours, leaving nothing for the rest of us.


	4. Kingdoms

I know it's been a long time. ): I'm sorry. But hopefully I'll be back on with my writing for a bit. Yay! Anyways, this is sort of a filler and a little insight into their personalities and lives, I think. The next chapter is school. Exciting. (: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! They make my heart fill with good, fanfiction happiness.

_Disclaimer: S. Myer and K. Brian are geniuses. I make do with their ideas.

* * *

_

**Chapter Three: Kingdoms  
**

My ears burned. My face burned. I think heat was permeating every single part of my body as Emmett and I emerged from the dance studio and walked the short distance back to the house. My hair was matted to my forehead, my cheeks flushed from exertion—and yet, despite all of that, I quite possibly could have killed the two-hundred-and-something pound man beside me.

Emmett didn't seem to care. The only thing he would talk about was Rosalie Hale. And I thought Alice was bad.

"Did you see her? She just _glides _across the floor, and I swear, I've _never _seen such a bodacious babe." He guffawed loudly, raking a hand through his curly mass of hair.

Shooting him a look, I shoved the door to the house open, pulling off my street shoes. "Bodacious?"

He nodded his head eagerly, a very rare kind of admiration in his eyes. "Uh huh. She's just…ugh, Bella, you can't possibly understand." He shook his head, leaning against the banister of the railing as if the sheet force of his feelings would knock him over. "Rosalie is an _angel_."

"So I've heard," I muttered, stomping up the stairs. Through my irritation, I watched as Jacob poked his head out of the study, casting a questioning glance at his brother. Emmett simply waved a hand at him, clearly not impressed with my antics. With a huff, I turned down the hallway and slammed my bedroom door, feeling a lot like a two year old.

Instead of allowing me to simply sit in the back and watch the class, the ballerina—or teacher, whatever you wanted to call her—insisted that I join them, since Emmett had so graciously pointed out that I had my shoes with me. He conspicuously pointed out the tall, busty, blond haired beauty that he was so enamored by, her cold shoulder making his heart practically break. Or, so I heard.

Throughout the lessen, they critiqued each other, practiced several forms of Pointe, and managed to help me humiliate myself as I tripped over a rather easy step. Rosalie made a point to shoot me a smirk, which I replied to by scowling animatedly. Although I probably wouldn't have had a problem with her, she made it a problem when she and her friend 'accidentally' tripped me during a partner's dance.

But I couldn't do anything about it.

However, I did smile graciously for the instructor's time, grinning at her appraisal and offering of another spot within the class. Although it would have been nice to get away from the boys every once in a while, I declined. I think I mumbled something about not having the money to, or not wanting to intrude on a class that had already begun. She didn't look so sure, but I gathered that she wasn't about to press me in front of her other students and their parents.

We left, and I abruptly began screaming at Emmett.

By the time I was well and clean, emerging from the bathroom with damp hair, the whole house had heard. I'm pretty sure that Emmett had a very, very eager death wish, along with his brother, James.

Jasper tried not to laugh when I winced, having just folded a particularly sore leg underneath me and sat on it. I glared at him, my brow furrowing in an attempt to ignore the laughter from Jacob.

"_She dances?_" he was hissing. I could hear the incredulity in his voice. "_She can't even stand on two feet without falling over!_"

"_Rosalie, man_," Emmett whispered back, "_is, like, the Goddess to my moon._"

There was some bickering about being pussy-whipped, and then I stopped eavesdropping. So long as the conversation didn't entail me, I was not going to be involved, I promised myself. No way.

But when Edward came into the room, looking like his usual brooding, smug self, I had it. Sure, I was acting like a ten year old having a temper tantrum, but I didn't care. It took all of my control not to reach over and smack that stupid look off his face. He infuriated me.

"What's so funny?" I snapped at him, crossing my arms over my chest.

He simply shrugged, raising a brow. "Should something be funny?"

I huffed. He wasn't playing fair.

Jasper grinned from his spot on the couch, his—as I was now noticing—constant mug of coffee situated in his lap. He had a silver lined paperback in his hand, and the words looked like they were less than a millimeter apart on the page. I had to hand it to him; even I wouldn't have had the guts to sit through that book.

"Bella, you're so much fun to have around. Just wait 'til school starts," he drawled, curling up further into his book when I practically chucked a pillow at him. Edward was watching the exchange silently, and although he still looked like it physically pained him to have me here, the corners of his lips pulled up slightly, showing a hint of how he could be.

* * *

Esme took me shopping. It was almost impossible to drag her away from the designer clothes and into some more sensible shops like Target. Walmart. The JC Penny sale. The look on her face when I found a pair of jeans that fit me perfectly for almost seventy five percent off was priceless. Alice and Esme would have gotten along well.

When we got back, Carlisle was home. The moment we walked in, there was an intense stare down between him and Esme, almost as if he was asking her how much money she spent on me. I internally cringed, already knowing that they had done more than enough. As his eyes swept over my bags, appraising, I felt heat creep up my neck in embarrassment, especially when he nodded, as if he approved of my choice.

The boys were in the basement, no doubt playing more video games. I could hear music coming from the third floor, but I was too exhausted to investigate. I imagined it was just someone's radio being played too loud.

Tomorrow I would have to go to school. A frightening total of over two thousand students attended, despite its 'private school' reputation. No uniforms, which was a plus. No way would I be able to stay on my feet all day if I had to wear those chunky loafers like in the movies. I would probably be toppling over my feet every other second.

My ceiling thumped above me, and I heard the gentle _click, click, click _of feet on a hardwood floor. There was silence, and then the classical music—the piano, I recognized—resumed, lulling me into a false state of security.

Of course, James came in, jumping on my stomach and declaring war on the female race. Yes, we were a separate race (apparently). And James, the king of Dwarftontown as Emmett called it, had been at war with the opposite sex since Victoria Mayfield had kissed him on the cheek not even four weeks ago.

If only things were so simple.

I pushed the rugrat off of me, immediately racing after him as he shouted, "Retreat! Retreat! The enemy is on the hunt!"

He tumbled down the stairs, all legs and arms and chubby limbs. I wasn't much different, almost colliding into a sleepy looking Jasper on my way into the living room, feigning good-will when Esme spared me a passing glance. I swore on my grave that James would die, slowly, painfully, carefully planned….

He charged into the basement, me tight on his heels. We barreled into the middle of Emmett and Jacob's game, issuing shouts of, "What the hell! We were almost on level thirteen!"

"You runt! You effing ruined it!"

Suffice to say, when I sat on James's stomach to prevent him from running, I had both of the older boys on my side. We circled him like vultures on a dying carcass. He immediately released his pout-face, his eyes welling with tears.

"Please, I'll give up my kingdom!"

"Not good enough," I growled, forcing more of my weight on him. I was being so, so cruel…and yet, for all that he'd done to me, he deserved it. "Say you're sorry, punk. And the kingdom will be _demolished forever_. There will be _no more _kingdom, I swear on that pink pillow you stole from my room."

James's eyes got as big as saucers. Emmett and Jake looked at each other. Then raucous laughter followed, causing the seven year old to wiggle free of my grip and charge up the stairs shouting, "Edward! Plan B, Plan B!"

A part of me couldn't help but grumble that Edward had been a part of the attack. Though I couldn't say I was particularly surprised. I had no doubts that there would be many more to come, but I couldn't exactly say that I wasn't going to be kind of excited when they did.

They were all growing on me, and it was only the third day in their house.

Not good at all, Watson. Not good at all.

* * *

**Bella Swan's Guide to the Cullen Boys**

**Entry # 3**

—Jasper, somehow, picked up a southern drawl. I think you'd like it, but whenever he invokes it, Esme gets purple in the face. Watch out for sudden explosions of the mom.

—They are impeccably timing in everything, no matter if it's good or bad. Just expect them to be in your face when it happens.

—Most of them have death wishes. I don't know how you'd deal with them, just be ready to want to hurt something.

—Jacob hogs the telephone. Practically all day. I think he has a secret lover. The only time he's not on it is two pm, so use that time wisely.

—Edward still hates me. No idea why, but it's really bugging me. Um…what to say to guide you in this? I don't know. Still working on that myself.

* * *

Review? Tell me if you hated it or loved it.


	5. Trust

So I don't really know how I feel about this chapter. Hopefully you guys like it. I know I haven't updated in forever, and I'm sorry, but that's just how life is. I love each and every one of your reviews, keep them up! Thanks so much. (:

_Disclaimer: S. Meyer and K. Brian have gone through the publication process. I haven't. Darn. _

* * *

**Chapter 4: Trust**

A lot can happen in a week.

That's the one thing that ran through my mind as I closed my bedroom door, resting my forehead against it and sighing. So much can happen—_had_ happened—and leave me breathless. There was nothing for me to do to change anything that had occurred. Everything would always be a large, screwed up mess that was my life. I swore that I attracted trouble, but my mom never believed me.

At any rate, it wasn't going to do just moping around. I had to come out of my room sometime, because Esme would be home and she'd want to know how school was going. I couldn't find it in me to tell her I was miserable. I couldn't tell her that her son had made my existence at her house almost impossible.

--

Monday.

My alarm blared loudly, throwing me onto the carpeted floor beside my bed. There wasn't anything in that moment that I could have wished for more than time. Sleep and more time to sleep. Because waking up at six o'clock every morning was going to wear on my nerves eventually.

Jacob hogged the shower until almost six forty-five. Then Jasper had to brush his teeth and attempt to comb over his hair. My few moments of grooming were interrupted by Emmett abruptly stomping in and going to the bathroom right beside me. Disgusted as I was, he couldn't care a bit and only laughed groggily when I ran out of the room, my mouth filled with toothpaste.

We—meaning Jacob, Jasper, and I—all got into his rusty, beat up Jeep, something that had to have been at least four years old. The front bumper hung slightly off-kilter, and the red color had faded to a chalky orange. Emmett told me that it had been his dad's for a few years before finally pawning it off to his son with the one promise that he had to take care of it. By the looks of the fast-food wrappers along with the medical aid care strewn across the seats, I don't think he really held up his end of the bargain.

Turning into the school, I glanced at the gates, the name '_De la Salle Institution for Boys and Girl_s' proclaimed proudly in the granite. If I were being honest, it sounded more like a mental hospital for deranged teenagers rather than a highly thought of high school in the Chicago area.

The buildings were built sturdily, made of worn brick and cement. A few oaks were planted in the front lawn, leaving the impression that they at least attempted to keep students cooled off in the shade during the first few days of school and heat. Already I was mildly hot, just sitting in Emmett's open jeep.

"Ah, the sweet smell of testosterone fueled men and hormonal women," Jacob muttered sourly, jumping out of the back and stalking away in the opposite direction. Jasper only rolled his eyes, kicking his door open unceremoniously and stretching his back.

"I hate to say it, but he's right. Definitely not happy to be back here."

Emmett seemed to be the only one genuinely excited. He clapped a hand to my shoulder, shaking me lightly and grinning. "Cheer up, Bella. This is the first day of your new life as a Cullen."

"Great," I mumbled, forcing a smile for him.

He laughed. Emmett was always cheery.

The moment we got into school, there was a piercing shriek and then a gaggle of girls hurling themselves toward the door. I cringed back, waiting for the impact, but Jasper pulled me to the side, hardly fazed.

"What the heck was that?" I asked him, incredulous. The girls pushed and shoved at each other, obviously trying to see through the double doors at something that was apparently entertaining. One girl sighed, looking love struck.

"_That_ would be the entire female population swooning over our brother," he answered nonchalantly, leading me to my locker. He showed me how to turn the dial, helping me concentrate on the numbers before I asked him another question.

"Why would they swoon over your brother?"

He blinked at me.

"What?"

"Do you really not see it?" There was a dubious look in his eyes. The corner of his lips tilted up slightly.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Even as my face heated up, I denied that I'd noticed anything about Edward besides his obvious disdain for me. There was no way I was going to admit that I thought he was probably one of the most gorgeous—albeit, rude—men that I'd ever had the pleasure of seeing. Well, except for the ones on magazines. But even then, he rivaled them, I thought hastily.

"Edward's a bit of a lady's man. The only problem for them is he doesn't really care. Never has, actually," he added, his blond brows furrowing together as I shut the locker. I proceeded to try the combination again on my own while he continued.

"Edward's not known for his polite and pacifistic ways. He's the opposite—loves a good fight and has never passed the opportunity to get in a good dig, should one be deserved. Around here, that's the only thing a girl wants in a guy. For him to be able to beat up anyone and then turn around and degrade their girlfriend to the point that they're so dependant on him that they don't even realize it."

I was starting to sense that it was a tender subject. I'd just opened my locker when a girl, a little shorter than me and with dark hair, approached us, a hesitant smile on her face.

"Isabella Swan, right?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"I'm Angela. I'll be showing you around school today."

"Oh. Um, thanks. It's just Bella."

"Okay, 'just Bella.'" She smiled fully, teasing.

I gave her a genuine smile back. Jasper stepped aside, raising his hand in a half-wave kind of way. The moment he was gone, Angela leaned against the lockers and gave me a look.  
"How do you know Jasper?"

A little taken aback, I answered quietly, "I live with him."

Her eyes widened subtly, but she quickly hid her surprise. I got the impression that she was normally a shy girl—she'd probably just signed up to do a new student mentor thing, thinking it would be an easy way to score extra curriculars for college applications. I'd do it, too. "Wow. Nothing tragic happened, I hope?"

"No, I'm just living with the Cullens while my parents are away," I replied, shrugging. "It's not a big deal. And Jasper's really nice."

"Yeah." She nodded her head, slipping her arm through mine as soon as I closed the locker I'd just opened about three times. Suffice to say, I had the combination down by then.

"I'll show you to your classes. I think we have Trig and Bio together, which is great because I suck at Biology," she told me, leading me down the hallway and past a group of gossiping freshmen. The school was huge.

"I took it when I was in Phoenix."

Her eyes lit up, but her voice didn't increase in volume. "Great! We can be partners."

"Sure."

--

Tuesday.

I woke up with a headache. Not only had I been stared at all day yesterday, but I'd managed to make my first enemy. Her name was Lauren, and it turned out that she, Edward, Angela and I had biology together. Mr. Banner—the poor man; he'd been on my good list up until that point—had me sit in the only seat open which, surprisingly, was next to Edward. Lauren's friendly manner decreased about tenfold after he shot me a look, one that clearly told me to leave him alone. She didn't catch it, but probably thought I was happy about getting the seat next to him.

Oh, if only she knew.

On top of that, there was this guy Tyler. He'd been nice enough to show me to my history class, which he had also. But later that day, it had to have been last period, rumors reached me that he'd already told his buddies that he'd 'hooked up' with me in a janitor's closet. Needless to say, I ran to Emmett's jeep after the final bell.

Today would be no different. I wasn't looking forward to it.

--

Wednesday.

I met a girl named Jessica. She was kind of shy, and reminded me a lot of Angela, except maybe a little bit more confident and out-there. She wore flashy tops, and had a thing for one of the popular guys in school, James. He barely spared her a second glance, but every time he looked her way she'd almost fall over.

We had English together.

She told me that I was really pretty and that I shouldn't hide so much. That Tyler was just a douche and that there were more fish in the pond. (Obviously, she believed the rumors. I didn't have the voice to tell her it wasn't true.) Immediately she directed my attention to Edward, who sat alone, oblivious to the stares he received from a group of sophomores a table over.

As Jessica tried to fill me in on his life story, my gaze drifted along him, hovering on the scar on his forehead, right near his eyebrow. His hair, as I'd noted before, had a red tint to it, making it a rusty, almost bronze color. Event though he was looking down, I knew that if he looked up I'd see the same sad, deep green eyes that accompanied his hard features.

"Bella?"

"Yeah?" I snapped my head in Jessica's direction, feigning interest.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Um, about what?"

"The party tonight. Edward will be there…" She'd caught me looking. And although it _did _pique my interest that he would be at a party—he didn't look like the type to want to go to one—I wouldn't show any enthusiasm because of her statement. That would only be like stoking the fire.

"Oh, right. Yeah, I don't know if I should."

"Oh, come on!" she groaned loudly, making Laurent snicker at her. She ignored him. "It'll be great for you to meet other people outside of this boring hell hole. And I've been dying to see if you're as much of a partier as you look to be!"

Giving her a dubious look, I sighed, "I highly doubt that, but I'll have to ask Esme. I don't know if she'd want me going to a party."

Jessica pouted.

"Maybe."

"Awesome," she grinned.

--

_bookgrl17 has logged on at 2:36 am._

_bookgrl17_:  If I don't survive to talk to you tomorrow morning, please know that I love you, and I've never liked those purple earrings you insist on wearing.

_bookgrl17 has logged off at 2:38 am._

--

Thursday.

I was dead. Undeniably, and inexplicably dead.

Edward was pissed at me. And not just pissed, but royally ticked off. All because of my damned clumsy knees.

Yesterday, the night of the party, Jessica had picked me up at the Cullen's house. Emmett was sleeping (not to anyone's surprise), Jacob was at football tryouts, Jasper was out riding his motorcycle, and James was at daycare until Esme picked him up. Edward was nowhere to be found, so it wasn't like I could have asked for a ride. Not that he would have offered, but that's not the point.

She drove the entire way there talking, about nothing and everything, making me lean my head against the cool glass and zone out. There was so much I was missing back in Phoenix—Alice, who still e-mailed me everyday, Mike who was still pining for me while I was in Chicago, and my book club. Everything here blurred together, like one monotonous year, passing me by while I failed to live it.

"We're here!"

"Great," I feigned enthusiasm, hopping out of the car and glancing up at the house. Already there were bottles and can strewn on the lawn, and someone had the great idea of trying to tee-pee the only car in the driveway. It didn't work out, seeing as how they'd only gotten the mirrors and one wheel done before giving up, apparently. Bright lights lit up the inside, music so loud that we could hear it from the walkway. It was a miracle that whoever was hosting this party didn't have nosy neighbors.

Jessica moseyed up to the door, not even bothering with such niceties as knocking. "Hey Pete!"

I tried not to be touched by the millions of wriggling bodies as she dragged me toward an older looking boy with dark hair and bright blue eyes. He smiled when we reached him, giving me the once over before talking to Jess.

"What's up?" His voice was gravely and deep, making me shiver.

"Nothing much. Thought I'd get little Bella Swan here to step onto the wild side."

He appraised me again before nodding, sticking out his hand. "Peter. But everyone just calls me Pete."

"Hey, Pete," I greeted, shaking hands. I had to yell over the music for him to hear me.

"You guys want something to drink?"

"Absolutely!" Jess replied before I could say no. There was no way that I was going to drink if she was—that would mean I had to drive, and if we were both drunk, I'd rather not die trying.

The stench of alcohol permeated the air thickly, and I thought I could smell something like smoke, only with a slight tinge to it. No doubt there were drugs going around somewhere, and honestly, it took me a second before I could really understand what I was doing there. With all of these teenagers grinding on guys who were probably old enough to be incarcerated for even thinking about touching them, I wasn't comfortable, especially when Jessica stopped talking long enough to catch Tyler's eye and wave him over.

I was abruptly very sick and told her I had to go to the bathroom.

"Okay," she answered, shaking a hand at me like I was a fly.

Pete caught me on the way out, pointing the bathroom out to me down the hallway. Even though he had more concern for me than Jessica did at that moment, I got the impression that he wasn't a very nice guy to be hanging out at this kind of place, with these kinds of people.

I stumbled against the wall, almost tripping over a spilled beer bottle. I felt warm fingers hold up my elbow, steadying me. Glancing up, I was met with bone-chilling green, pure enough to have been the color of emeralds. I exhaled slowly.

"You alright?" he asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He was waiting in line for the bathroom.

"Yeah, fine," I answered shakily, leaning my back against the wall opposite of him. My head was pounding, and I couldn't remember why I'd gathered enough courage to ask Esme to go. Couldn't remember why I was here and why I had even told Jessica yes. I didn't see the appeal of drunkenness.

"Rough night?" he implored smoothly, arching an eyebrow. Edward's stance told me that he wasn't all that unwilling to make conversation, being that it was silent enough in this crook to do so. I wanted to ask him why he avoided me and seemed to hate me, but I had a feeling that wouldn't go over too well with him.

_"_Sort of," I mumbled.

"It's not my type of thing, either."

I raised my eyebrows, finally looking up into his face. He had a slight smile, the corners of his mouth crooking up unevenly. He seemed to understand my unanswered question, sighing and raking a hand through his unruly hair. I wanted to rake _my _hands through his hair…

"It's better to just show up and appease everyone than have to endure the rampage of girls asking me to come."

My gut twisted. "Oh."

He shrugged. "They only like what they see, not what they know."

"What do you mean?"

"Pretty girls go after pretty guys. It doesn't matter if they're assholes or not, they just want the picturesque relationship. So when girls—and I'm not going to lie, there've been a few guys, too—see me, they automatically think that I'll be like the lot of them. Say yes, do whatever they want. But I'm not like that; I'd rather rip off my face before dating one of those brainless bimbos."

Although Jasper had said something much of the same, I couldn't help but to choke a little bit on air. "So you want someone who knows you, not the face?"

"I guess. I don't see the point in falling in love."

Why was he telling me all of this? Not that I wasn't hanging on every honey-laced word of his, but it wasn't something you usually talk about with an almost-strange girl.

"It may be stupid, but I look forward to it. Falling in love, I mean. It's supposed to be a once-in-a-lifetime kind of deal, you know?"

"But what happens when that person dies, or something happens to them? You lose everything you've invested in them—your time, your heart, etcetera. What's the point when you're putting everything you can possibly have at the risk that they will, too?"

"I think that _is_ the point."

He looked up at me, eyes roaming my face. I couldn't deny that in that moment, I felt like I might have broken through that tough-guy exterior that I'd been hearing about all week. That Edward Cullen was too much of a loner, a rebel, to want anything to do with some strange girl that was staying in his house for the next two years. There was more to him than that, and I think I caught a glimpse of it at that party—a small, unguarded piece of a person that was willing to let people in, if they were the _right _people.

But I'd screwed it up.

The guy that had been hogging the bathroom came out, pushing his way back into the crowd. Edward spared me one glance—and a smile! I secretly did a happy dance inside—before going in. Yeah, not very gentlemanly of him, but I did have to admit that he'd been waiting in line before me, so I couldn't hold it against him.

Then, when the door opened, and his foot stepped out, I started for it, too, a little too eagerly. I bumped my knees against the hallway stand where a vase of flowers was perched, making me wobble forward. Instinctively I reached out for Edward, pulling him to the ground with me. We toppled over together, his weight pressed onto me as I winced, muttering under my breath.

For a second, our noses collided and I could feel his warm breath on my cheek. And then his weight was gone, Edward abruptly standing, a look of disgust on his face. It was then that I heard the jovial laughs, the taunts, saw the people gathering around the debacle I'd created. My face went aflame.

"Yeah, way to get some, Edward!" someone shouted.

"Gross, who knew the new girl would be such a whore?"

"Why does _she _allowed to get into Edward Cullen's pants?"

I ignored them all. The only thing I could focus on was Edward's lips forming the words, "Just like everyone else," and walking away from me as I sat on the beer soaked floor, utterly humiliated.

--

He didn't answer the door when I got home. The only thing that welcomed me was a loud thump on the wall, probably something he'd thrown. Skittering away from the door and into my room, I fell asleep, relatively aware that I'd gotten in past the time Esme wanted me home. My first week here and I'd already managed to break rules, start rumors, and upset the men in the house.

School would not be merciful today.

--

Friday.

Edward hated me again. Not that I could admit it to him then, but I had been starting to like that side of him I'd gotten to see. There was something there that I wanted to get to know, but I'd screwed it all up in one clumsy accident, and I didn't know if I could get it back.

The classical music concerts that I was treated to in my room stopped occurring. I couldn't hear any more music from the attic upstairs.

Emmett was less happy than normal. He'd obviously heard about what happened, and even though he tried his attempts at cheering me up, it didn't help. Jasper was quiet as usual, only sparing concerned glances and shrugs with his brother. Jacob was at football too much to really care about a menstruating woman's emotional breakdowns.

All I had were Edward's glares and a purple room.

So much for a new start.

--

**Bella Swan's Guide to the Cullen Boys**

**Entry # 4**

—Jasper's actually really sensitive. Go to him for ALL advice.

—Emmett has the corniest jokes up his sleeves. Act like you're happy, or endure them for the rest of the day until he deems you sufficiently cheered up.

—Jacob has a mean throw with a football. Avoid him at all costs when he's home and practicing.

—There are no secrets in that house. Esme seemed to know what happened, and tried to confront me about it. Take note: pretend you're sleeping instead of answering the door when she comes.

—Do not, under any circumstances, ruin Edward's trust. He WILL intrude on your privacy and make your life a living hell. But please don't fall for him in the process, because I'm learning that it kind of hurts.


	6. Understandings

I adored the response from you guys. Thanks for everyone's reviews, and I hope I can live up to your praise! Here's the next chapter, enjoy. (:

_Disclaimer: S. Meyer and K. Brian are awesome. Go read their stuff...after you've read mine. (:

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**Chapter 5: Understanding**

"Bella, come on. It will blow over eventually, darlin'. Just give the guy a break, he's relatively unstable." That was the last thing anyone said to me before I went up to bed Friday night. The small joke didn't go unnoticed by me, but even Jasper's smooth accent couldn't cheer me up. School hadn't been as bad as I expected it, and he was right—everyone soon forgot about my clumsiness. Everyone except Edward.

And it was odd because normally I would do everything to stay out of his way, especially if he was angry with me. But there was this feeling; I couldn't seem to understand it. Under normal circumstances, the misunderstood pretty boy would be a turn off, willing me to stay away from him. Edward was different, though; there was something about him, and that tortured look in his eyes that got to me.

Esme didn't ground me for being out too late. I hadn't come in drunk, and was only relatively tired at school on Friday. She figured that as long as it didn't happen again, she'd let it slip by that one time. I had no idea how to thank her, and instead settled for making coffee for her in the morning. Although she must've been surprised, she hid it. She didn't need to say anything.

Saturday morning was quiet. I assumed that everyone was sleeping in, and I lay there in bed, staring at my ceiling. They'd left it an off-white color, just enough so that it contrasted with the light filtering in through my window. My gaze darted across the crevices, following one path only to find it end over the next inch or so.

A muffled noise startled me. It came from above my head, in the attic that the classical music had come from. I didn't even know anyone was up there.

Peeling back my covers, I grabbed a sweatshirt and pulled it over my head. Creeping toward my door, I eased it open slow enough that the creaking would go unnoticed by Jacob in the room across from me. Listening, I breathed a sigh of relief when I could still hear Jake's light snores through the door. I looked down the hallway to my left, apprehensive of the flight of wooden stairs that curved upwards, obviously leading to the faint music that I was now hearing.

Trying to calm my rushing heart, I took the first step, my sock-clad feet keeping my steps muffled and unannounced. It was nearly six forty in the morning, and I couldn't understand who would be awake at this hour; well, enough to want to play music in a probably really scary looking attic.

I took the stairs one at a time, the quiet, soothing tone of the piano lulling me, pulling me up towards the sound. I reached the top and stopped where I was.

The room was pretty big. There was a large window to my right, dusty curtains hanging limply on each side. They complimented the color of the room, a light beige that bounced off of the wood floor. Immediately in front of me, maybe a good ten feet away, stood a baby grand piano, the silken surface showing no hint of being ignored. Ivory keys were being played beautifully by the one man that I'd managed to avoid since I'd gotten home from the party.

Of course, I knew it had to have been him. As far as I'd seen, none of the other men in the house had shown a preference for music, or hinted at any musical talent. They were mostly obsessed with cars, women, or sports, the latter holding their attention all together.

But Edward…Well, he'd been a mystery.

We hadn't really talked except for two days ago, the night of the party. He'd kept to himself—despite having James attack me in my room—and didn't bother to try and get along with me, much like everyone else. I figured he was just trying to play the role of tragically impoverished, oh-so-mysterious popular guy that had all of the gals running after him.

The music drew my attention back after a moment, the same haunting melody that I'd heard before coming from the enormous instrument. His fingers floated delicately across the keys, almost as if he were caressing an old friend. Mistakenly, I let out a contented sigh.

His movements halted, and his previously relaxed posture stiffened. My own body tensed in response to his, wondering what he was going to do now that I was caught.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude," I started to babble, my words whispered. "I just heard the music and I didn't know where it was coming from—"

"It's fine," he said, his voice cutting across mine quickly. He slowly deflated on the bench, cocking his head to the side to watch me from his peripherals. I stood there, unsure of what to do.

"I'd meant to talk to you," he added quietly, turning his torso to look at me from the bench. His eyes looked remorseful, and the bags under those eyes were so apparent, even in the dim lighting. "I know I can come across as...." He pondered that for a moment—"Sort of harsh and unwelcoming. I hadn't meant to get so angry at you at that stupid party." He turned back around, and I watched him fidget nervously. Cautiously, I took a step into the room, leaning against the railing. "I just don't really like change. And you were a big one, for my family at least."

"Hey, trust me, I know what you mean. Try moving in with five girls and tell me how you fare."

The side of his mouth quirked up into a half smile. "Yeah, I guess we can be pretty intimidating."

"Yeah." This time I was the one fidgeting.

He eyed me for a moment and then nodded. He patted the spot beside him on the bench, motioning for me to take a seat. I did, making sure that I kept a fair amount of distance between him and I. Best not to overstep any boundaries and set him off again.

"I didn't know that you played," I said, waving my hands at the keys before me. "You're really good."

He shrugged, like it was no big deal. "Thanks. I'm the only one in the family who really took an interest in it. Esme said that it would be a great extracurricular to add on my college applications." He gave me a sheepish grin.

I laughed quietly, crossing my feet. "Yeah, Esme's pretty great. So you want to do something with music when you go to college, then?"

"Not quite."

I raised my eyebrows. He hastily went to explain, flexing his fingers before gently resting them on the keys.

"I want to serve in the Army. Esme doesn't want me to, and Carlisle says that I'm not thinking straight. I've tried to tell them over and over again that it's the only thing for me, but they think otherwise, obviously." His long fingers gently pressed down, the sounds emitting from the piano making me subconsciously relax beside him.

It was quiet while he played. He—I guessed—didn't want to say anything else about the subject. I wasn't entirely too sure what was allowed to be said with him. It felt like I was treading on ice; one wrong step, and I could come crashing down.

"So, you can't sleep?"

"I'm a natural insomniac."

"Oh."

"What about you?"

"What?" I asked, confused and mesmerized by him all at the same time. His hair fell into his eyes and I fought the urge to brush it back from his forehead.

"What are you doing up so early?" he clarified, looking away.

"Just had a lot running through my mind, I guess. It's been kind of a long week."

"About that," he started, a shameful and pained look crossing his features. "We got off to a bad start. I didn't mean to be so rude to you at the party and when you first got here, and my brothers have been—"

"I understand," I cut him off, "I didn't exactly think that you all would get used to me quickly or anything. I just hope that I haven't ruined your standings with the ladies," I teased, unsure of myself with him.

He put my worries at ease when he laughed, the sound reverberating off of the attic walls. Dust fell off of the window and the morning light was starting to descend upon the area in beside Edward's body. It lit up half of his smirking face, making me turn red in embarrassment at my thoughts. He was gorgeous.

"Don't hope. You've actually made my life so much easier without having to deal with them," he assured me, his hands spinning a light song, a tale of two friends. Despite his warning, I did find myself hoping.

"But I do hope that we can be friends."

Those sad green eyes gazed back at me. "I do, too. How about we start over?"

"I think I'd like that."

He stopped playing abruptly, turning to face me. He stuck out his hand, which I automatically grasped with my own, noticing how large and warm his was. My face and neck heated.

"Hello, I'm Edward Cullen. You must be Bella Swan." He cocked his head to the side, his hair falling into his face again. I laughed under my breath, unable to resist the look he gave me.

"Hi. Sorry we didn't get the chance to meet before."

"Yeah, I sort of had a personal emergency. It was a full moon, so I had to go into hiding."

"So you're secretly a werewolf?" I laughed outright.

He grinned. "But don't tell anyone."

"Of course not."


End file.
